The Everlark Chronicles
by cutestuff024
Summary: The Everlark Chronicles is a series of short stories about Peeta and Katniss' time together. Set near the end of Mockingjay, it will show how they "grow back together". These little snippets are told from Katniss' point of view. Each chapter is its own mini story. Some chapters will be funny, some not so much. Thanks for reading!
1. Peeta hunts, I bake

"_We learn to keep busy again. Peeta bakes. I hunt._" - Suzanne Collins, Mockingjay (Chapter 27)

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**Chapter 1: Peeta hunts. I bake.**

The small turkey swings lifelessly from my hand as I walk back to my house. A few people give a small nod as I pass. One even gives me a curt hello. My bow is slung across my shoulder, and my steps are methodical as they approach the path that leads to Victor's Village.

Peeta is there crouched in front of the small garden he has planted for me. The primroses are in full bloom, and they look beautiful, but I could only stare at them for a few seconds before my chest tightens and I have to tear my eyes away. He's been taking care of the garden since the start, and oftentimes I find fresh cut flowers in a small vase inside my house.

The smell of freshly baked bread hits my nose and saliva rushes to my mouth. Thoughts of warm bread and turkey stew dance in my head, making my stomach rumble. I decide to invite Peeta over for dinner. Again.

He accepts. He always accepts. We call Haymitch over too, but he doesn't answer. He's probably passed out again waiting for the next train to arrive. The train that will bring him more liquor. The geese he's supposed to take care of are scattered all over Victor's Village, and one of them has even made a home on my front step. Lucky for it, food is not an issue for me nowadays or it would have ended up as dinner already.

"How was hunting, today?" Peeta makes small talk as we eat supper.

"Good for me. Not so much for the turkey," I say. He grins at me and I feel unexpected warmth travel up my cheeks. I'm not much of a joker, but sometimes I get these bursts of, well, I guess you could call it inspiration. Haymitch keeps telling me to get a sense of humor, so I'm trying it out for a change.

Hunting has been good. Great, even. I'm no longer afraid of being executed for hunting outside my district. I love being myself out there. Sometimes though, I can't help but feel lonely.

"You can tell me," Peeta says, as he dunks a piece of bread in his stew.

"Tell you what?"

"What's bothering you."

"Who says anything's bothering me?"

"Your face does."

I scowl at him. "And you just know from looking at my face?"

He shrugs. "I told you I pay attention."

A sigh escapes my throat. Peeta is like this, he always tries to get me to talk. I have to admit, it does help sometimes. So, I decide to tell him. After all, who else can I talk to here?

"Sometimes I feel... well, lonely when I hunt."

He looks at me but doesn't answer. It then hits me that he probably thinks I miss Gale. Gale and I have grown apart since Prim's death. I do miss him occasionally, but I can't forget what happened to Prim. And I can't bring myself to forgive him for it.

"I meant I miss having a hunting partner," I clarify, even though I don't have to explain it to him. Still, I don't want any misunderstanding between us.

Peeta doesn't look jealous or angry. He nods, as if he understands.

Of course he does.

"Take me with you."

"What?" My fork clatters on the table and I gape at him.

"You need a hunting partner. I'm willing to learn," Peeta says.

Could this actually work?

I guess I'll never know until I try.

The next day, Peeta and I head out in search of wild game. He is eager to learn and listens to everything I say, and for a minute I begin to think that this might actually work. When we get to my hunting grounds though, his footsteps are so loud behind me he might as well have been wearing a megaphone. On his feet.

Taking Peeta hunting was a bad idea. I should have known this. I should have remembered the time we went hunting (or tried to) during the first games. I scowl at him and he pauses, his leg ready to stomp on some extremely crunchy dead leaves.

"What?" he whispers. He sets his foot, the artificial one, so carefully down on the leaves but it still makes a loud crunching noise.

I sigh inwardly. Well, at least he tried.

"You're scaring the turkeys away!" I scold him.

He folds his arms and gives me an incredulous look. "What did you want me to do? Sit here and not move?"

Actually, that's not a bad idea. "Yes."

Peeta pouts but sits down on a pile of dead wood. We stay like that for a few minutes – me, standing there with my bow and arrow at the ready, him sitting like a statue while his eyes scanned the surroundings.

At least no one's trying to kill us here right now.

A deer appears out of nowhere and I put a finger across my lips to signal Peeta not to make a sound. He nods but his eyes widen and he points excitedly at the deer. I step closer to it but it gets startled by something and starts running away. I bolt after it, my legs working hard, and I hear Peeta right behind me.

When it stops, I'm a few feet away. I inch closer to it step by step, my eyes trained on the animal. Just as I'm about to fire my arrow my leg goes through the ground and the arrow releases skyward, and I find myself in excruciating pain from my left leg. My leg has found a hole in the ground, most likely from the bombings, and a massive rock has rolled over and settled on top of my leg. I push at the rock but it doesn't budge. Instead it digs deeper into my leg. I decide to finally call for help.

"Peeta!"

He is beside me in a few minutes.

"Are you okay, Katniss?"

"I've been worse."

He inspects the pile of rocks and starts hauling them off me one by one. Sometimes I forget how strong he is. The rock I couldn't budge moves easily for him, and he pulls me out of the ground in one heave. I hobble around for a bit, testing my weight on my leg. He sees me wince in pain and before I could say anything, he lifts me up and carries me in his arms.

"I'm fine," I protest, a little embarrassed to get help from him.

"I know." Is all he says, but he carries me all the way back to my house. I don't struggle against his arms, because I don't remember the last time someone carried me like this. His hold is firm yet gentle, and his skin gives off a scent that reminds me of the forest. His eyes are focused on the road ahead, which is a relief because I don't realize until later that I've been staring at him the entire time. We get a few stares from onlookers but he ignores them and keeps walking until we get inside and he sets me down gently on the couch.

Amid my protests, he examines my leg and applies some healing salve on it, and immediately it starts feeling better. Capitol medicine is something else, I have to say.

"It's still swollen though, so you'll have to take it easy until the swelling goes down," he explains to me.

His touch is so gentle, and for a moment I'm reminded of Prim. He and Prim would have gotten along well, I think. They are both gentle and kind. My eyes fill with unshed tears and I turn my head away from Peeta.

"Sorry I wasn't much of a hunting partner." Peeta's apology takes me by surprise. I start to shake my head but he interrupts me. "Hey Katniss, since you shouldn't go hunting tomorrow, how about you stay and help me bake?"

Huh? Did I hear him right?

"I'm not sure that's a great idea," I begin. "I'm not much of a baker, to be honest."

He flashes me that boyish grin that I know so well. "I'll teach you."

…

The next day Peeta is in my kitchen and he's got a whole arsenal of baking supplies spread out on the kitchen table. He begins to instruct me on what to do, how to mix, and I can't help but smile at his enthusiasm.

We work side by side as I'm throwing ingredients into a huge glass bowl, but his proximity is distracting me. His skin gives off the smell of pine and fresh cut grass, and my mind replays the way I felt when he carried me back to my house yesterday. I close my eyes and breathe in his scent.

Suddenly, Peeta grabs my arm, his face plastered with a look of pure horror.

My heart leaps to my throat. Is he having another episode? I consider grabbing the communication pad they gave us and calling Haymitch over. Hopefully he's not too drunk to rush here in case I need help.

I've handled Peeta lots of times when he's had an episode. But he hasn't had one in days, no, weeks maybe. When he has an episode and I try to help him, he shakes his head and asks me to stay back. He's been trying to control himself. Still, my mind runs through different ways to help Peeta get back to reality. The kitchen has lots of dangerous things that he could potentially kill me with. I think about running, but I don't want to leave Peeta alone. Besides, I won't get far with my swollen leg.

What he says next surprises me so much it freezes me in place.

"You just put a handful of salt into that batter. Real or not real?"

Oh.

My eyes travel to the bowl. The batter is thick but I can see blobs of salt slowly sinking in. Did I really put that much in there? I was too busy daydreaming I wasn't paying attention.

The answer is written all over my face but out of habit I say it anyway. "Real."

Uh oh. This isn't good. He's hyperventilating. I've never seen him so... scared? This was worse than that time we were being chased by mutts. Or that time we almost got shredded by angry monkeys.

"Does it matter?" I try to give him a flirty grin but I'm sure I look like I'm taunting him. "It should end up the same, right?"

This isn't my first time baking. I've made bread lots of times with the tesserae I got for my extra entry into The Hunger Games. But what we got to work with then were of extremely low quality and of very meagre quantity. Since President Paylor took over, we haven't lacked much for food, especially Peeta and I. Things I never even knew existed, or considered a luxury, are now at my grasp. Different types of flour, sugar and even butter are now available to us. These are foreign to me. But Peeta is used to working with these ingredients.

"Baking is an exact science," Peeta explains. "You can't just throw things in a bowl and hope for the best!" His eyebrows are touching so closely it looks like he only has one.

One thing I now know for sure: Peeta takes baking _very_ seriously.

Was he watching me the whole time? Of course he was. "It will still taste great." I insist, as I mix it around with my wooden spoon. It smells good. So what if I put _some _salt in it? Isn't salt supposed to give it flavor? Mine would just be _extremely _flavorful.

A few minutes later Haymitch drops by, right in time to see me take my bread out of the oven. It doesn't look as great as Peeta's - mine is all bumpy and looks like someone sat on it, but I still hold it up proudly. It looks and smells better than any tesserae bread I've ever made. The smell of fresh bread makes Haymitch's mouth water, and he sits on the chair in front of my steaming bread.

"Do you want some?" My smile is so wide Haymitch blinks twice to make sure it's me and not a mutt.

Peeta is standing at the end of the table with his arms crossed in front of his chest. The look he's giving me tells me he's not sharing my enthusiasm for my bread. I'll show him I can bake. This will taste good. I give Haymitch a generous slice and he bites into it ravenously.

"Ptoooie!" He spits it out after two seconds. He turns to Peeta and wags his finger accusingly. "Peeta, I must say, you've lost your touch. This tastes like the tears of all the tributes combined!"

Peeta's eyes go wide, then he starts guffawing. He's laughing so hard he's clutching his stomach. I've never seen him laugh like that, and I'd probably feel happy if he wasn't laughing at my expense.

I turn to glare at Haymitch, who is still staring at Peeta.

"Oh come on. It can't be that bad." I take a bite out of my bread. The moment it hits my taste buds an explosion of salt comes out, and I have to force myself to swallow it, just to save my pride. It's terrible. I try not to show them how terrible it is by making exaggerated chewing noises. "Mmmm..." I say, mouth full.

Haymitch raises an eyebrow at me. "Look sweetheart, you can drop the act. We know how it tastes. You don't have to pretend for Peeta's sake." As if he'd forgotten already, he pops another piece into his mouth. He chews it for a few seconds, as if remembering something. "It's like..." He spits it out again, right on my table. "It's like a block of salt met a wall of salt and got married."

"Okay, okay, I get it." I frown at him. Peeta is still beside himself laughing. The urge to chuck my salt bread at him tugs at the corner of my mind.

Haymitch looks at Peeta, then at me, then back at Peeta. Then at me again. "Wait a minute..." His eyes go wide. "Katniss made this bread, didn't she?" Then he starts laughing maniacally along with Peeta.

"I just need more practice," I say defensively. "I'm sure I could do better next time. This is Peeta's territory after all. Besides, it's not like Peeta can do what I do."

"What is that? Scowl a lot?" Haymitch teases.

"Hunt," I say, raising my chin up proudly.

"I can hunt," Peeta says.

"Sure. What are you going to do? Chuck bread at a turkey?"

He scratches his chin as if considering it. "That could work." Then he smirks at me. "As long as it's your bread I'm hurling at it."

No way. Did he just insult my baking?

"Tell you what," I say, feeling a challenge coming. (Not that I'm competitive or anything.) "Why don't we try something new for a week?"

Peeta grins. "Go on."

"You hunt. And I'll bake. And for a week you can eat only what you hunt and I'll eat only what I bake."

Haymitch leans back on his chair and chuckles. "Now we're talking!" he says, and claps a few times. We don't have much in the form of entertainment at Victor's Village so this seems to really amuse him. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he says, in his best Caesar Flickerman voice. "Welcome back to The Hunger Games!"

…

I've seen Peeta bake lots of times. He throws a few cups of flour in a bowl, then some water, then some salt (this time, I am very stingy with the salt), then some butter. Maybe some sugar.

I fail several times. One of them came out so hard it knocked Haymitch out when I threw it at him for laughing at me. Though he could have been drunk too, since he found that bottle of bourbon someone left for Peeta. That's one thing. We've started getting mail at District 12. It's mostly for Peeta though. He gets tons of these love letters, gifts, and proposals from all over Panem. Sometimes I get mail from girls who ask me if I could let go of Peeta. The nerve. Peeta isn't my property. He could go to whoever he wants.

(But he better not, just saying. I'm still a pretty good shot with a bow. Something I have no problem reminding him from time to time.)

Peeta comes back empty handed, his hair a mess, and scratches cover his arms. I feel a little pang of guilt, and consider putting some herbs on his scratches.

"Got into a fight?" I try to sound as casual as possible.

He nods.

"What was it? Wild dog? Feral cat?"

"Squirrel. A really mean one," he says, and I bite my lip to keep myself from laughing.

He sits down at the table and starts drawing something. It looks like a trap.

He's building a trap?

Then his stomach gives a loud grumble and his eyes soften as he looks at me. "Katniss?"

"Yes? Are you hungry?" I ask. _You can give up if you want._

"That was your stomach, Katniss. Any luck with baking?"

I dare not take a bite of my latest endeavor in front of Peeta. Last time I did, I almost chipped a tooth. Were there any dentists in District 12? It was hard to say. People had started moving back and are trying to rebuild. I should ask Haymitch if he knows of any dentists around.

I never thought I'd miss the low quality, meager rations of the tesserae. At least I know I can make that. I did try to make bread with just flour and oil, and it was okay. But once you got used to Capitol food (and flavor), it's hard to go back to tesserae bread. Besides, Haymitch said tesserae bread doesn't count.

One day when Peeta is out getting supplies, I sneak into his house and check out his trap. I know he's been building one as I've seen the plans. It's a cage with a spring mechanism, but I see a few flaws in his design and discreetly fix it. Competition or not, I can't let Peeta starve.

The following day Peeta comes back whistling happily and chucks a couple of fish on the sink. He proceeds to clean the fish and then heads outside to roast it.

As soon as he steps outside I slump on the chair. I've been eating my failed attempts for days. It's edible, but I want to succeed at this.

And then I see it.

On top of the table there's a note. A recipe. In Peeta's handwriting. And then under a huge piece of cloth lay several bowls of varying sizes filled with ingredients. Pre-measured ingredients! He even labeled (and numbered) each one. I follow his recipe to a T and soon enough I find myself devouring the best, heartiest bread I have ever eaten.

Peeta walks back in as I finish the first slice and we exchange knowing glances. He places the roasted fish on the table, and I cut a few more slices of bread. Together we eat the fruits of our labor.

"You did good, Everdeen," he says to me, and I beam back at him.

"You too, Mellark." I say.

_..._

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_*Author's note:_

_This first chapter is dedicated to my friend Mandy, who loves The Hunger Games almost as much as I do (maybe even more). I hope this made you smile today, and I can't wait for your Everlark stories._

_To the rest: thank you for reading this! Please leave a review! I hope you enjoyed it! Take care!_


	2. Green is NOT my favorite color

"_Let's start with something more basic. Isn't it strange that I know you'd risk your life to save mine... but I don't know what your favorite color is?" he says._

_A smile creeps on to my lips. "Green. What's yours?"_

"_Orange," he says._

"_Orange? Like Effie's hair?" I say._

"_A bit more muted," he says. "More like...sunset." _ \- Suzanne Collins, Catching Fire (Chapter 4).

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**Chapter 2: Green is NOT my favorite color**

The train stops abruptly on the platform and I peer over to look at the sea of faces that walk out of it. My eyes take a cursory glance at each – most of them are smiling as they get out. Imagine, smiling at arriving at District 12. The district that used to be the poorest of them all. Now we get visitors, not really tourists (not yet anyway), but people curious enough to see what we have to offer.

They chatter about how quaint our little district is, how cute our primitive wooden platform is. The "primitive" platform was thrown together by a bunch of volunteers shortly after the war ended to enable the arrival of goods - the train being the easiest way to get supplies to us.

Peeta was one of those volunteers. You could say he put his strength to good use. I remember the cameras that recorded them (with Peeta smack at the center) while they worked. I remember marveling at how effortlessly he lifted the wooden posts that they used as piles for the platform. The way he would smile widely whenever the camera did a close up on him. The way his eyes would light up every time he looks my way...

And the way my heart would skip every time he catches me watching him.

Peeta gently touches my arm and pointedly looks at a passenger who just disembarked. There are a lot of people on the platform but I know immediately who he's pointing at and a smile appears on my face.

Even Haymitch, who has "dressed up" for the occasion (and by dressed up I mean he wore clean clothes and ran a hand through his hair) can't help but grin at the sight of the new arrival.

"Effie!" I exclaim, my steps hurrying to catch the attention of my escort-turned-friend.

I've seen a lot of weirdly dressed Capitol people in my time there. Some were quite subtle, while others were way over the top. Effie, in my opinion, falls somewhere in between. Not quite normal, but… do I dare say, bearable?

Effie is back in her usual Capitol ensemble – this time sporting a bright blue hair elegantly coiffed at the top. It reminds me of a croissant, which Peeta recently introduced me to.

"Katniss! Peeta!" Her cheery voice greets us. Effie grabs me by the shoulders and gives me a quick cheek to cheek. She does the same to Peeta then takes a step back, tucks one hand under her chin and eyes us up and down.

"My, my, you guys have grown!" Her ardor is contagious, and Peeta and I exchange happy glances.

"It's only been two weeks, Effie," Peeta reasons, but he is smiling from ear to ear.

"Aherm." Haymitch clears his throat, and we all turn to face him. His left eyebrow is raised, and I'm about to ask him why he doesn't look pleased to see Effie, when I notice he isn't looking at Effie.

We all turn in the direction of Haymitch's stare and find a young girl standing straight as a post, quietly observing our little reunion. She looks younger than us, maybe around Prim's age, and her eyes remind me of Buttercup's - she must be wearing lenses. Her skin is covered in thousands of glitters that sparkle under the sun, and her hair... her chin-length hair is a deep shade of forest green. Her dress matches the color of her hair perfectly and looks identical to the wedding dress I wore during the Quell interviews, except hers comes up to her knees at the front and reaches past her ankles at the back. She looks stunning, in a way. Like the forest come alive.

_How in the world did we not notice her? I must be losing my touch._

"Oh, there you are!" Effie is the only one who isn't surprised to see the girl. She ushers the girl forward and beams at all of us. "Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch, this is my niece, Sparkle Trinket."

Haymitch snorts at the mention of her name, and whether Effie notices or not, she doesn't show it. Peeta bites his lower lip and I can see him trying to suppress a laugh.

_Amateurs! I've heard worse names in the Capitol. _I extend my hand and smile widely at the girl.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Katniss," I greet. Any relative of Effie's is a friend of mine, I decide.

She eyes my hand but doesn't shake it. I feel a little stung, but chalk it up to nervousness.

Effie leans over to whisper excitedly in my ear. "_She's a huge fan._"

A fan!

I've had a lot of fans, of course. Some of them were a little scary, to be honest, but most have kept their distance. A small surge of pride stirs inside me at the thought of having a fan like Sparkle. I instantly decide I _will_ befriend this girl. I can make new friends, right? The problem is, I've been so used to just having Peeta, Haymitch and a goose we named Gus as my friends lately I might be a little rusty.

"Well, I need a drink," Haymitch says.

I glance at my watch and laugh. "Wow. That lasted what? Ten minutes? Weren't you just talking about quitting drinking before Effie arrived?"

"Must have been another Haymitch," Haymitch argues. "I don't remember saying anything like that."

Effie gives him a reproachful look but her lips turn upwards at the corners.

"We should go back anyway," I say to them. "The food's getting cold."

Peeta nods and grabs their suitcases, one in each hand. Sparkle is quiet through all this, but I notice her give Peeta a small nod. Then she lowers her eyes and starts following him towards Victor's Village.

Effie and Sparkle are going to be staying with me for two days. When Effie called to say she was coming over, I offered her my place to stay at. The house is too big for me anyway, so I have a few spare rooms for them to sleep in. Of course, I didn't know Effie would be bringing Sparkle along, but I didn't mind it either.

I spent two full days cleaning my mom's room so Effie could stay in it. My mom is busy at the Capitol so she rarely comes to visit.

As we're going up the stairs to my front door, Gus waddles by and honks at us a few times before settling himself comfortably on the mat beside the door. I give Gus a quick pat on the head, which elicits another round of honks from him before I step inside the house.

"Interesting pet you have there, Katniss," Effie remarks.

"Gus is actually Haymitch's," I say. "But they recently had an argument so he's been staying here a lot."

We go inside the house where Peeta and I have prepared a small feast. Earlier that day I managed to catch a wild chicken so Peeta and I roasted it with some herbs he grew in the garden. The house smelled delicious while it was in the oven. We eat mostly in silence, with Effie telling us about her Capitol ventures now and again. Sparkle keeps glancing my way, but every time I try to meet her eyes she looks away.

Peeta sits beside me and hands me a slice of his famous cheese bread. It's still warm and I finish it in two bites. I could eat this every day.

Actually, I have been eating it every day. I made the mistake of telling Peeta how much I love it so he's been making it daily.

"What do you guys want to do tomorrow?" Peeta asks Effie, as he hands her a piece of bread.

"Well, I'm hoping you can show Sparkle around town? I have to meet with a few Capitol delegates around."

Peeta just nods, and I swear I see a small gleam in Sparkle's eyes.

After dinner, Effie goes upstairs to unpack, but surprisingly, Sparkle stays seated on the couch. Peeta and I exchange questioning glances and he clears his throat.

"So, Sparkle," he says, trying to start a conversation, "you like green?"

Sparkle looks puzzled at first. Then she looks at her outfit and gives him a shy smile. "Yes."

"Katniss likes green too," Peeta says, grinning. "In fact, it's her favorite color."

Sparkle doesn't even look at me but keeps staring at Peeta. "Is it your favorite color too?" she asks.

Peeta shakes his head. "No. I like orange," he says, giving me a knowing look.

"Would you like us to show you around tomorrow?" I say. "We could go see the -"

But I never finish because Sparkle stands up right then and says, "I have to go." And then she disappears.

"Well, that was weird," I say, as Peeta sits beside me. He puts an arm around me and I burrow into his shoulder.

"You going to be okay tonight?" he asks.

I nod. The nightmares that have plagued me since the games started have been visiting me a lot lately. It had gotten so bad that Peeta started sleeping beside me at night again. Most nights I wake up screaming and drenched in sweat. Sometimes I would cry all night. Peeta's arms are always there to hold me.

I don't think it's appropriate to have Peeta sleep over when I have guests, though.

"I could sleep on the couch," he offers, but I shake my head.

"I'll be fine," I say.

Surprisingly, I manage to get a few hours of sleep before the nightmares come that night. I wake up to find Effie's worried face staring back at me. Sparkle is standing by the doorway.

"Oh Katniss," Effie pulls me in for a hug and I don't resist. I heave in and out, in and out, until my heartbeats slow to normal.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, as Effie wipes the sweat from my brow. My eyes automatically search for Peeta, but he is nowhere to be found. "I'm fine," I say to them. "Go back to sleep. I'll be fine."

Effie hesitates for a minute before nodding. Sparkle has already disappeared back to her room. I wait a few minutes until Effie's room is quiet before I tiptoe down the stairs.

I need some air.

The morning air is cool and refreshing, and I take a long, deep, inhale. Gus is nowhere to be found. Maybe he and Haymitch made up.

The sky is pitch black, the sun still a few hours away from rising.

"You okay?"

The voice in the dark almost makes me scream out loud, but I manage to bite my tongue at the last second.

"What are you doing up?" I ask, as Peeta appears in front of me.

"I heard you screaming," Peeta says.

"Sorry."

"Don't be."

He pulls me into his arms and we sit on the front steps like that for however long before Gus wakes us up.

"I told him if he doesn't stop honking he'll be dinner," Peeta says, as I groggily open my eyes. "But he's as stubborn as Haymitch."

The sun is just starting to rise, and the sky is a beautiful mixture of yellow and orange.

"Did you sleep at all?" I ask him. There are no bags under his eyes so I'm hoping he at least got a few hours of sleep.

"Yes, I did."

My legs are stiff from sitting but I manage to stand up. "I better go back inside."

Peeta just nods and then heads back to his house.

An idea forms in my head as I enter my room. How can I get Sparkle to feel more comfortable around us? They're only staying for a few days, and I owe it to Effie to make sure Sparkle doesn't hate it here.

When I get down to make breakfast that day, I am dressed in a green tunic and dark green pants. My hair is tied into a braid and finished with a green scarf. I'm hoping since I'm wearing the color she loves, we'll have something to talk about.

"Hey," Peeta greets as I enter the kitchen. He's already cut slices of bread and is frying some eggs in a pan. He pauses to take in my appearance and gives a quick nod, and suddenly color rushes to my cheeks so I look away.

Just in time to see Sparkle going down the stairs. A small gasp escapes my throat as I watch her descend.

Her eyes are the one thing that tells me the girl in front of me is Sparkle. Everything else about her is different today. Instead of forest green, Sparkle's hair is long, straight, and now orange. Her short, poofy dress is also orange, and her ridiculously high heeled shoes are orange. Even her skin is full of orange glitter, making her look like she has a really bad sunburn.

_Orange,_ I thought. Like Peeta's favorite color.

And then it hits me.

The looks she's been giving him.

The secret, shy smile she thinks I never notice.

Sparkle isn't a fan of mine.

She's a fan of Peeta's.

...

Throughout breakfast, I catch her sneaking looks at Peeta, who seems oblivious to it. Peeta is arguing with Haymitch over how much butter is acceptable to put on toast. Sometimes it still feels surreal to me that we can now talk about these types of things – trivial, unimportant things. Instead of, you know, how to stay alive. (Although one could argue that drenching everything in butter, as Haymitch wants to do, would not be a very good way to stay alive.)

"Well, my dears, I have to go. I've got things to do, people to see!" chirps Effie. She stands up and brushes her skirt. "You guys will take good care of Sparkle, won't you?"

Peeta nods on behalf of both of us. Effie smiles at this and pats Peeta's shoulder. "Have fun!"

"Will you show me around, Peeta?" Sparkle asks as soon as Effie leaves.

"Sure," Peeta says, smiling at her. He stands up and pauses, as if waiting for me to follow, but Sparkle is beside him in a flash. She hooks her arm around his and starts dragging him out the door.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. It's not like Peeta's my boyfriend. Since the games, I've seen many girls throw themselves at him. We were just together because of the games, right?

"What's with the Robin Hood get up?" Haymitch says, as he grabs the last slice of bread and spreads a generous amount of butter on it. "You planning on stealing from the rich and giving it to the poor? Well, I've got news for you, sweetheart. Here, we ARE the rich." He takes a huge bite out of the bread. "I've got nothing you could steal."

I don't answer.

Haymitch chuckles and looks out the door, where the silhouette of Peeta and Sparkle can be seen in the distance. "I think green looks good on you."

I narrow my eyes at him and only then do I realize I've been frowning this whole time.

"Peeta's quite the catch, don't you think?" Haymitch continues. He leans back on the chair and starts rubbing his belly. "I guess it wouldn't be so bad if he marries Sparkle. Effie would love that. Sparkle Mellark. It's got a nice ring to it."

By now I'm glaring at him, but Haymitch just laughs.

"Green is _definitely_ your color," he says.

He's teasing me.

I have the sudden urge to chuck something at him, but he finished all the food and I don't have the heart to throw one of my plates at him.

"I'm going out," I huff.

"Going to spy on them?"

"Of course not," I lie. "I'm going to do some... basket weaving!" And with that I rush out the door.

Every Saturday, Mrs. Mal teaches basket weaving at the Seam (or what used to be the Seam). I've never actually gone to any of it, but today seems like a good day to go.

Mrs. Mal has just started handing out bundles of grass when I arrive. There are only a handful of people who showed up for the class. I plop down on the ground and put the bundle of grass on my lap. My eyes discreetly search for Peeta and Sparkle, and see them walking arm in arm in the distance. Peeta seems to be talking and Sparkle just keeps on giggling.

_Trip,_ I think. _Come on, __trip__!_

But Peeta doesn't even falter, his steps are assured and confident.

I want him to trip so I could run to him and kiss him.

I know, I know.

I think I may be losing it.

All this free time is making me crazy. Maybe I should go find a small, harmless rebellion somewhere and join them.

Peeta sees me and waves, and I pretend to be listening intently in class. I start copying what Mrs. Mal is doing, all the while noting Peeta coming closer and closer through my peripheral vision. His voice is now audible and I catch bits and pieces of their conversation. They are standing several feet away, close to my old house.

"Oh Peeta, you're so adorable!" giggles Sparkle.

No, he's not.

Peeta is NOT adorable. He's _adorkable_.

"Katniss, go easy on the weave, my dear," Mrs. Mal calls out. "You're holding it too tight."

The blades of grass I'm holding are now crumpled and broken. I toss those and start a new one.

Soon enough they're standing in front of my old house, and I can hear their conversation clearly. Sparkle is talking about helping out with the medics at the Capitol while Peeta is quietly staring at her.

"What are you thinking of?" she says to him, a smile playing on her lips.

"You remind me of Prim," Peeta tells her, and my ears perk up at this.  
Sparkle's smile disappears and is replaced with a frown. "Who's Prim?"  
"Katniss' little sister," Peeta says. "She's about your age, I think."

Sparkle looks at me, then at Peeta. There is a huge question mark written all over her face. "How come? Are we both pretty?"

"Yes," he says.

Sparkle seems delighted at this and she pulls Peeta even closer. "I wore your favorite color for you. Do you like it?"

Peeta seems surprised by this question. "Um. It's very... orange."

"Do you like me?" she says.

"Of course I do," he says and my chest tightens a little. But then Peeta adds, "you're like a little sister to me." He's grinning at her, unaware that he just broke her heart.

Sparkle releases her grip on Peeta's arm and takes a step back.

My inside is doing a happy dance, but I keep my face blank. I pretend to be really focused on my basket weaving, which, by the way, looks really good. Maybe I'll start making baskets and sell them at the market.

"But..." Sparkle starts, then glances at me again. "What about Katniss?"

At the mention of my name, Peeta looks at me and our eyes meet.

Peeta gives me a smile enough to melt the basket I'm holding. "Katniss is... _my_ Katniss."

If my inside was doing a happy dance before, now it's doing three somersaults and a parade. I'm trying to hide a smile but my face won't cooperate.

_Oh Peeta, you're so adorkable _is what I think, but thankfully I don't say it out loud.

Peeta walks towards me and sits beside me, Sparkle in tow. My basket is now half done, and I hold it out admiringly.

"Nice work, Katniss," he says, and I beam at him. Sparkle is standing in front of us, arms crossed in front of her chest.

This did not turn out the way she had hoped, I'm guessing.

...

The next day I let Peeta tour Sparkle around, not bothering to follow them this time. Peeta takes her all over District 12, which, considering how small our district is, doesn't take too long. Sparkle is not as cheery as she was yesterday, and I consider talking to Peeta about it. He's probably still clueless as to what happened. Today, she's wearing all blue, which makes me wonder how she was able to fit all of her outfits in the little suitcase she brought.

In the afternoon we take a walk around the forest close to the Seam, Effie and Haymitch included. Peeta is carrying a picnic basket he personally packed, and we find a flat spot to sit on. Haymitch keeps drinking something out of a metal bottle, and Effie is lecturing him on proper picnic etiquette. (In his defense, I didn't know about proper picnic etiquettes, either.)

"Katniss, when are you coming to visit me at the Capitol?" Effie asks.

Peeta is handing out ham and cheese sandwiches and I happily take one.

"Soon," is all I say.

The truth is, it's still hard for me to go to the Capitol. Every time I see the gates, I get severe panic attacks. It's like the scene plays over and over in my head with no relief in sight.

Effie purses her lips as if to say something else, but then she hesitates and cups one of my cheeks in her palm.

I guess in her own way, she understands.

...

We all stand on the platform again, this time to bid Effie and Sparkle off. Effie gives us a tight hug, as she wipes her misty eyes hurriedly. "You two will come and visit us, won't you?"

"We will Effie," I say.

"And tell Haymitch he's going to stop his heart if he keeps eating butter like that," Effie says.

Haymitch is nowhere to be found, although he did say goodbye to Effie this morning during breakfast.

Effie gets on the train, leaving Sparkle standing awkwardly in front of us. I could tell she wants to say something.

"I hope you had fun. We'd love to have you back," I say, and mean it.

"How did you guys meet?" Sparkle asks, looking at Peeta.

My mind goes back to that place, a long time ago, when I sat in the rain ready to die. Peeta appearing there, rescuing me...

A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. "He threw bread at me."

Sparkle's eyes widen. "Really?"

Peeta rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to contradict, but I don't give him a chance to say something.

"Yes, he has horrible aim though so he missed," I finish, and Peeta shakes his head, chuckling as he did so.

Sparkle's mouth twists in disapproval. I bet she wishes Peeta threw bread _at her_, too.

If only she knew...

"Must have been some bread," she mutters, as she's getting on the train.

Peeta sighs and looks at me. He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. I lay my head on his shoulder and squeeze his hand back.

"Yes, it was," I say, to no one in particular.

It really was.

...

* * *

*Author's note:

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a review! I'd love to hear what you thought of it. I do have more chapters written out – just have to get organized before I publish. 😊

Thank you very much to all those who have favorited, followed and reviewed me and my stories!


	3. No Contest

**Chapter 3: No Contest**

"_I remember everything about you," says Peeta, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention."_

"_I am now," I say._

"_Well, I don't have much competition here," he says._

_I want to draw away, to close the shutters again, but I know I can't. It's as if I can hear Haymitch whispering in my ear, "Say it! Say it!"_

_I swallow hard and get the words out. "You don't have much competition anywhere." And this time, it's me who leans in. _\- Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games, Chapter 22

* * *

Someone's downstairs.

I look at the clock on my bedside table. It's five in the morning. Soundlessly, I get off the bed and crack the door a little. Sounds of clattering coming from downstairs. For a moment I think of Peeta, but remember that he said he was going to let me sleep in today.

Then there's Haymitch. But Haymitch won't be up this early. We're lucky if we see him earlier than 11 most days.

I grab my bow from my closet and tiptoe down the stairs.

More banging. Whoever it is, is looking for something. It's coming from the kitchen.

My bow is drawn and pointed at the kitchen, waiting for someone to appear.

"Who's there?" I call out, voice steady, hands ready.

No answer.

"Who's there?" I say again, louder this time.

A head pops up from the counter and I almost let go in surprise.

"Hello sweetheart," Haymitch says, grinning widely.

"Haymitch? I almost shot you!" I exclaim, heart racing. I carefully set my bow down and walk towards him. "What in the world are you doing here this early in the morning? Are you crazy? Are you sleepwalking? Are you drunk? Where's Peeta? Is he okay?"

Haymitch clutches his head with his hands. "Easy there, sweetheart. Too many questions so early in the morning. Geez, you're making my head hurt." He turns back to rummage through the cupboards. "Don't you have a coffee cup here?"

"Top cabinet on your left," I point.

He takes his time grabbing the cup, pouring hot water from the kettle on the stove, dumping a packet of coffee into it, and stirring the contents. He takes a whiff and sighs.

"What, no alcohol?" I say, sarcastically.

"I like the way you think, sweetheart," Haymitch winks at me. "I was trying to be considerate and not drink in front of you this early, but since you insist..." He takes a small steel bottle from his pocket and pours the entire contents into his cup. I think there's more liquor there than coffee now.

"When has that ever stopped you?" I say, arms crossed.

"Touché, my dear."

"Well?" I'm tapping my foot impatiently on the floor.

"Well what?" he says, settling himself comfortably on my couch.

"What are you doing here this early in the morning?" A thought crosses my head and I look at him in alarm. "Did something happen? How's President Paylor? Are we at war again?"

Haymitch lets out a chuckle. "No, no. None of that."

I let out a sigh of relief. Then I frown at him. "Why are you here, Haymitch? To what do I owe this wonderful visit?"

"Cesar called," he says. I'm waiting for him to continue but he doesn't. Instead he's slurping his coffee. Loudly.

"You woke me up just to tell me that? I've barely slept 5 hours!"

"Well,_ he _woke me up," Haymitch grumbles. Then he brightens up. "Anyway, he said he was too excited about his idea that he couldn't wait."

My face darkens. "What idea?"

Haymitch puts his hands up. "No, no. Nothing like that. So apparently, they're in trouble at the Capitol. You know, people getting depressed and going crazy. They're looking for something to take their minds off everything that's happened."

"Go on."

"Some type of entertainment."

"Get to the point, Haymitch."

"So Cesar comes up with an idea. Why not do a show?"

"What kind of show?"

Haymitch hesitates before answering. Then he puts on a fake smile and says, "A dating show!" with a flourish of his hand.

"Really, Haymitch?" I roll my eyes. "I'm going back to bed."

"Wait, they want you and Peeta on it!" he shouts, and I pause on the second step.

"Me and Peeta? Peeta Mellark?"

He snorts. "Do you know any other Peeta?"

"Why?"

"Because you two are Panem's favorite teenagers, that's why." He says this as though it's obvious. Frankly it's something I've tried to forget.

"They want a show with me and Peeta _dating_?" My mouth is hanging open in disbelief.

"Not exactly." Haymitch stretches and then yawns. "The people of Panem sent in votes, you know, to see who should be on the pilot of the show. Guess who topped the votes?"

I let out a huff. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"Hey, this is the Capitol we're talking about. You've seen more ridiculous things."

Yes, like throwing 24 kids in a ring to fight to the death.

"And how is this supposed to help anything?" I ask.

Haymitch walks to the kitchen to refill his cup. "Think of it like an auction. They're auctioning you and Peeta to the highest bidders. Winners get to go on a date with you."

"What makes him think people will give money to that?"

"They've already started. Cesar's getting calls left and right. He's really thrilled about this. Even got President Paylor to okay it. She says it might be good for morale."

I bite my lower lip, thinking hard. "They want me to go on a date with someone other than Peeta?"

"Uh huh."

"Why?"

The entire Panem knows about Peeta and me. Who would watch us go with anyone else?

"Beats me. Maybe they want to see how you and Peeta act around someone else," Haymitch says, his eyes trained on me knowingly. "Or maybe they know you and Peeta were just an act and want to confirm it."

Just an act. Me and Peeta.

"No," I say, firmly.

"No what?"  
"I'm not doing some stupid show."

"It's only one date, sweetheart. A couple of hours, tops."

"It doesn't matter," I say. "My answer is no."

"They're going to use the money raised to rebuild the hospital, Katniss."

The hospital.

Prim. Prim would like that.

That's not fair, trying to bait me with guilt.

"Peeta's already agreed to do it," Haymitch declares.

Really? Peeta agreed to it? I look at Haymitch for any signs that he's lying, but he's casually sitting there, his feet up on my coffee table, his arms lazily crossed behind his head.

Just then Peeta walks in, carrying freshly baked cinnamon buns. His hair is tousled and I have the sudden urge to run my hand through it but I stop myself. He offers me one and I'm about to grab it when Haymitch snatches it from me.

"Speaking of the heartthrob," Haymitch takes a chunk out of the cinnamon bun.

I narrow my eyes at him but before I can say anything Peeta hands me another one.

"Careful, it's hot," he says, grinning widely as he sits down beside me. Turning to Haymitch he says, "What heartthrob?"

Haymitch has devoured his bun and is licking his fingers. "I was just telling Miss Everdeen here that you've agreed to go on Cesar's new dating show."

Peeta leans back on the chair and takes a bite out of his cinnamon bun. "Uh huh. It could be fun."

"You really agreed to this?"

He gives me a lopsided grin. "Cesar wouldn't stop calling me until I did. Plus, it's for a good cause. What do you say, Katniss?"

He turns to me and gives me the most adorable smile. One that most people would find irresistible.

But not me. Oh no, not Katniss Everdeen.

I did not survive a revolution only to be charmed by the likes of Peeta Mellark.

I did not...

"Katniss?"

"If it's for a good cause," I say.

...

"Who are we supposed to go on dates with?" I ask.

"The votes are still going in so we won't know until tomorrow night," Haymitch answers.

I still can't believe Peeta agreed to this.

"What do we have to do?"

"Well, you go have a nice, lovely time with whoever you're on a date with, then you say bye and you never see them again. Sounds peachy, right?" Haymitch grins.

I look out the window where Peeta is tending my garden. The flowers are in full bloom, nourished and cared for by Peeta's green thumbs.

A date. I never had time to think about such things before. I don't know if anything Peeta and I did at the games counted as dates. It's hard to think about dating when you're being chased by things that are trying to kill you.

The next day we watch as the two winners are announced.

For Peeta, a girl from District 2 who is tall, blonde, and bubbly. She smiles at the camera and waves to the crowd, and she looks genuinely excited to have won.

"She looks like…" I begin, and Haymitch nods.

"She is," he confirms.

No, no.

Cato's sister.

Overwhelming fear washes over me, and my eyes dart around in search of my bow, even though Cato's sister is nowhere near me. She'll be near Peeta, though.

I have to protect him.

"Easy, Katniss," Haymitch chastises. "She's not Cato."

No, but she's close enough.

…

I don't even pay attention to who the other winner was. Some tall, apparently adorable boy from the Capitol, based on how much Cesar is showering him with praise.

"He seems nice. Excited to meet you, at least," Haymitch says, as I'm out in the yard practicing, turning the small makeshift target pinned to the fence as a pincushion. "Katniss, what are you doing?"

"Nothing."

I can't lose focus. I've been out of practice for too long.

"You're not planning on shooting Ever with an arrow, are you?" Haymitch asks.

"Don't be ridiculous," I say. It's not Ever, I'm after. It's Chia, Peeta's date. But he doesn't have to know that.

"You know you're going to be televised _live_, right?"

A minor inconvenience.

Haymitch throws his hand up in the air and leaves, finally fed up with my lack of conversation skills.

If I hadn't said yes it would only be Peeta going there, with no one to protect him.

Now I'm glad I agreed to do this.

…

We arrive at the old training center and are greeted by hundreds of people, cheering, throwing petals of flowers in the air. It feels surreal. The last time we were here they were cheering us to die. Now, they're cheering for us to go on some meaningless night out.

"You okay?" Peeta squeezes my hand as we enter the building. Haymitch staggers behind us, exaggeratingly waving at the crowd.

"Katniss! Peeta!"

We turn around to see Effie, her hair an eclectic blue, elaborately styled at the top. Her long, fake lashes are also blue to match her lips. Everything about her is radiatingly blue. She squeezes us into her arms, smiling and chattering wildly, thanking us for participating. She sends us off to our rooms with a gentle shove.

My room is spacious and is reminiscent of my old room, except instead of the twelfth floor I'm now on the seventh. I'm assuming this is where they get us camera ready again.

The door opens and three people as ridiculously dressed as Effie walk in. They're hauling in racks of clothes, carrying containers full of what I can only guess is makeup. They tell me their names but my mind is too busy worrying about Peeta to remember.

I wonder where Peeta is and how he's doing?

We're not supposed to meet our 'dates' yet. The big meetup is scheduled to be live on air in a couple of hours. Then we're supposed to go somewhere for our 'date'.

When it's time, they usher me to a room where we're supposed to wait. I'm not wearing a ridiculously frilly dress this time, but I am wearing a dress. In the room is another girl, nervously strumming her fingers on the table. She looks up as I enter, and our eyes meet.

It's Chia, Cato's sister.

Instantly I look around the room for something to defend myself with, anything. I set my eyes on a huge crystal vase in the corner, inching closer to it while keeping my eyes on her.

She recognizes me instantly and stands up, brushing her long, frilly dress before she walks towards me.

"Katniss!" she says, brightly. "It's so good to finally meet you. I'm Chia."

My hand is on the vase now, ready to attack at the first signs of aggression.

Her greeting takes me by surprise though, and I'm at a loss for what to say. Somehow, I don't think starting with "I'm sorry I shot your brother" would be right.

She really does look like the female version of Cato, only slightly smaller. She looks at me shyly, her hands restless at her sides.

"Congratulations," is all I manage to blurt out.

"Thank you," she says, sweetly. "You don't mind, do you?"  
"Huh?" I loosen my grip on the vase.

"Me going with Peeta."

"Oh, that," Visibly I relax, but keep the vase at reaching distance.

"I just want to meet him, maybe talk to him," she says, wistfully. "Is that okay?"

As long as it doesn't involve killing him, I suppose.

"What's he like?" she asks.

"He's…" I pause. "…sweet. He's kind. And strong. And he makes the best cheese buns."

She giggles at this. "He bakes?"

"He does. Best baker in District 12."

Wait a minute, I'm getting too comfortable with Cato the second, which isn't good because I've only known her for a few minutes. For all I know she's trying to get ideas on how to kill Peeta. Maybe get him to bake and then shove him in the oven. I think I heard that in a story somewhere.

I'll keep an eye out for ovens on this date. You can never be too careful.

The door opens and a head pokes in. He's got something in his ear, and he's listening to something, orders perhaps.

"You're up, girls. Good luck," he says.

…

The stage is bright and there are four chairs beside Cesar. Peeta and Ever are already seated. They stand up when we arrive.

"And here we are, the lovely ladies Katniss and Chia!" Cesar's booming voice announces to the cheers of the crowd.

I'm directed to sit beside Ever, while Chia sits beside Peeta. My eyes are scanning the stage for anything I can use as a weapon, something to defend Peeta with if I have to.

Cesar goes on and on about the night's activities, about how thankful he is we agreed to go on the pilot, about how much money this has raised so far.

Then it's time for us to leave.

"Peeta and Chia, if you'd like to go on the first car, Katniss and Ever will go on the second."

Wait, what?

"We're not going together?" I blurt out, which is the first time I've really spoken since we got on the stage.

"Of course not!" Cesar laughs.

But…

I look back longingly as Peeta holds the door open for Chia. Our eyes meet as he gets in the car.

_It will be okay_, his eyes seem to say.

I'm escorted into a car where Ever is holding the door for me.

"After you," he says, smiling widely. He gets in and sits beside me. He's wringing his hands and I can tell he wants to say something.

I never actually paid attention to him until now. His hair is light-brown and deep dimples appear on his cheeks when he smiles. His eyes are grayish-blue, and he looks normal for someone from the Capitol. No cat pupils or orange skin.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Katniss," he says, extending a hand.

I shake it hesitantly, and whether he noticed or not he didn't show.

He makes small talk during the ride, pointing out some buildings that he's been in, telling me some of the restoration efforts going on, the things they decided to do without.

The car stops by a building I've never seen before. It's got a dome shaped roof and marble columns dot the entrance. I bet this building cost a fortune to build. It's a good thing it wasn't damaged during the war.

We sit down to a luxurious dinner where the table is laden out with dishes I never even knew existed. There's so much food for just the two of us it's ridiculous. A drone flies around, streaming us live for everyone to see.

Ever offers me several dishes, naming each one. It must be nice to have grown up in the Capitol, not worrying about starving to death.

He doesn't talk as much during dinner, his eyes darting to the drone buzzing around us. I barely eat, afraid my stomach won't take kindly to all this fancy food. After dinner we take a walk in the adjacent garden, but all the trees remind me of the arena so there's a knot in my stomach. I half expect someone to jump out of one of the trees yielding a knife.

"Are you okay?" Ever asks, his brow furrowed.

"Yes," I force a smile.

"I never liked the games," he says, out of the blue.

"Huh?"

He looks at me and gives a sad smile. "I never liked the games. My family would watch it but I thought it wasn't right. Made me sick to my stomach. The year that you won, that game was the only one I watched. I was cheering for you the whole time."

What do you say to that?

"Thanks," I manage to say.

"Not everyone in the Capitol approved of it," he continues. He stops walking and turns to face me. "I hope you know that."

I _did_ know that.

Maybe Ever isn't so bad. I notice the drone is farther away. Maybe they can't hear us? Is that why he's talking more now?

"And don't worry, I don't think Chia will do anything to hurt Peeta," he adds with a wink.

Warmth seeps into my cheeks and I turn away so he doesn't see how red I am.

We spend the rest of the date just talking, cameras following us from a distance. I try to smile as much as I can. I guess he must have spent a small fortune to get here and I realize maybe I haven't been the best company. We try to avoid talking about the games but talk about our families and friends instead. I hardly see my mother so I end up talking about Haymitch and Peeta a lot. I avoid talking about Prim, the wounds still too raw for me to delve in. He talks about his family, his brother and sister, growing up under President Snow, the rules they had to follow.

"I thank you for this wonderful evening," he says, as he's dropping me back at the old training center.

The drones are closer to us this time, their lenses focused on our faces.

No one told me what to do on this date, so I'm hoping I don't have to kiss him for more money or something.

Instead I give him the brightest smile I could muster. "I had a nice time," I say. He smiles sheepishly and then turns away.

"Ever," I call out and he stops in his tracks. "Thank you," I say, and mean it.

Peeta and Chia's car arrives, and Peeta gets out first, waiting for Chia to follow. They exchange greetings that I can't quite hear, and Chia gives Peeta a hug before she leaves.

The drones fly off when Peeta and I are alone, and he takes my hand as we head inside the building.

…

"Did you enjoy your date?" I ask Peeta. We're on the rooftop of the building, just the two of us. It's late at night, and neither of us want to sleep yet. The streets are quiet, but the moon is full, the sky clear and hundreds of stars dot the night.

He follows my gaze and looks up. "It was okay. Chia was nice. You?"

"It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," I say. "Ever did not try to kill me once."

Peeta unexpectedly laughs. "When I saw you looking at Chia I thought you were going to shoot her."

"I thought about it, but they wouldn't let me bring my bow," I say, smiling.

There's something I've bee wanting to ask him.

"Peeta?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you agree to go on the show?"

"Oh that," he says. "To be honest when Cesar told me I thought he meant you and I would go on a date together."

"Oh."

I look away, trying to hide the smile that's threatening to jump out of my lips.

We go silent for a few seconds, just enjoying the stillness of it all.

"Katniss?"

"Hmm?"

"What would you describe as a perfect date?"

I look at him, but he's avoiding my eyes. He's still looking at the sky.

I shrug. "I don't really know. But I don't think it was what I did today." I tilt my head. "You?"

His face lights up and he meets my gaze. "Something spontaneous. Like a rooftop picnic. Where we eat and lie in the sun all day, playing games. You practicing knots and weaving nets while I sketch you. And then, by the end of the day, your head's on my lap while I play with your hair."

My mouth drops open. Everything he said…

He remembers. Every single thing we did that day. The night before the Victor's Games. Our impromptu rooftop picnic.

His definition of a perfect date.

"Peeta, I..."

He looks away, a sad expression on his face. "Sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to remind you of the games."

An idea creeps into my head.

"Let's do it," I say.

"Do what?"

"Your perfect date. Let's go and get food and have a picnic right here."

"Really?"

We both run downstairs like little kids, taking whatever food we can find in our room. When I get back to the rooftop, Peeta is laying out a blanket and arranging his find in the middle.

"I found some meat and cheese," he says, grinning.

"Pastries and fruit," I hold them up proudly. "Oh, and I found a bottle in the fridge. I think it's fancy water."

"Fancy water?"

"It's in one of those fancy bottles I see everyone drinking from." I add it to our pile, along with a couple of cups.

He opens the bottle and pours out bubbly liquid into our cups. We raise our cups and toast.

"To rooftop picnics," I say, and take a gulp. It's sweet, but there's a slight bitter taste in it, too.

We eat. We drink. Peeta points out fancy pastries I'll never remember the names of but they all taste delicious.

"This one's filled with chocolate," he says, handing me a soft, spongy one.

"No, you take it. I've had enough chocolate."

We play a game of hide and seek, which is ridiculous considering the roof isn't very big and it takes us about ten seconds to find each other.

Peeta tries to sketch me, but it's too dark so I show him how to weave. We talk about a lot of things, avoiding anything or anyone related to the Games, with the exception of Haymitch and Effie.

"Those two would make a good couple, don't you think?" he says.

"If Effie doesn't smother him in his sleep," I reason.

I lie with my head on Peeta's lap, and he's stroking my hair absentmindedly, humming a quiet tune to himself.

I'm not sure when I fell asleep, but I wake up to Peeta gently nudging my shoulder. I'm wrapped in the blanket, in his arms, and he's looking up at the sky.

It's dawn, and the sun is a bright orange ball casting warmth onto the city below it.

He's smiling warmly. "I didn't want you to miss it."

"Thanks," I say. Sunsets are beautiful but sunrises, the sign of a new day, have become my favorite.

He pauses suddenly, and a memory jolts into my mind. I sit up, knowing what to expect.

But before he says it, before he can open his mouth, I say it first. Word for word.

"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it for ever," I whisper. I am not the type to spew out romantic lines, or be all sappy, but I'm feeling really good right now. Maybe it's because I had a good night's sleep, and the sunrise is beautiful, and no one has tried to kill Peeta and I even though we're back in the Capitol. Maybe for the first time, I'm finally able to relax.

His eyes widen and he's speechless for a few seconds. "You remember," he whispers.

"I remember," I nod. The very words he said that night.

And then he leans in, slowly, surely, and I close my eyes as his lips meet mine.

….

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hello reader! I hope you're doing well, wherever you are. I didn't have a lot of time to edit this, but wanted to put it out for your reading pleasure before the long weekend. I apologize for any mistakes you may find.

I hope you enjoyed it, anyway.

Thank you for reading! As always, comments are very much appreciated!

Take care and stay safe!

~cutestuff024~


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